Urinary Fact
by lostlikeme
Summary: Sequel to "Re: Official Prank Policy." The sting of a jellyfish can be abated by the topical application of fresh urine. Or so Dwight insists to Jim and Pam after he's been stung by one.


Jim knows they're being followed when he sneaks away with Pam to collude behind the rocky overhang, but he doesn't actually care, even after Dwight's strangled scream pierces the air. Just two hours into their office beach excursion and everything has already gone horribly wrong. He tries to ignore the first call for help, and the second, but Pam has other plans. This is worse than the time Michael tried to force him to walk barefoot on hot coals.

"C'mon Jim," Dwight pleads from in the sand, clutching desperately at the back of his shorts. "Don't wuss out on me now!" he hollers, voice hoarse.

Jim throws his hands in the air. "I'm not going to pee on you," he repeats. "How is this even a conversation we're having?"

"He's not asking you to do it for fun," Pam points out. She scrunches her eyes shut and turns away from Dwight to face her husband. "He looks like he's really hurt."

"You hear that, idiot!" Dwight spits. "This isn't about your weird pee fetish. Jellyfish stings are one of the most painful experiences known to man."

Jim crosses his arms while a breeze blows across the coast. "That is not true."

Dwight scoffs. "Oh, I didn't realize your urine was so precious."

Jim closes his eyes and shakes his head. "It's not about that, and you know it."

"Oh, I get it," Dwight says with a grimace. "Scared little Halpert won't measure up?"

The next wounded cry forces Pam to flinch. A bead of sweat trickles down Dwight's temple, legs shaking from holding the awkward kneeling position. Jim glances to his wife for reassurance and surrenders with a deep, shuddering sigh.

"Fine. But do not tell anyone about this."

"You're so conceited!" Dwight sneers. "As if the first thing I'll do is rush into work and brag about Jim Halpert giving me a golden shower."

Jim pulls his belt through the first loop and unbuttons his pants. The sound of his zipper is drowned out by the crashing waves of the ocean behind them. He glances around twice, half expecting to find Ryan and Kelly creeping over the nearest ledge. Dwight stares at him while Jim's fingers twitch around the hem of his underwear.

"Stop looking," Jim complains. "I can't do it with you watching me."

Dwight rolls his eyes with considerably more effort than necessary and pulls his shorts the rest of the way down to expose his bare ass. Pam giggles and turns away while Jim scrubs a hand across his face.

"You got this," Pam says with a small smirk.

Jim furrows his brow and pulls himself through the hole in his boxers. He takes a deep breath, dick heavy against his palm, and tries to pee. His bladder contracts like a frozen pipe before producing a dribble that seeps uselessly into the sand. The sound of Andy's voice in the distance has him chewing on the inside of his cheek.

"Is that it?" Dwight asks, head bowed. "You pee like a little girl!"

Pam tries to pat his back but Jim shrugs her off. "The sooner you pee, the sooner we can forget this ever happened," she reminds him.

This time, Jim squeezes his eyes shut and releases the hold on his bladder with enough force to match a broken dam. His eyebrows shoot to the top of his head when the spray of urine escapes like an uncontrollable lawn sprinkler. He tightens his grip and steadies the stream, trying to aim without focusing on the target. When the flow peeters off to nothing more than a leak Dwight bares his teeth over his shoulder.

"It's not working!"

Jim shakes himself off, splashing the remaining droplets against Dwight's skin with a wince. "Are you sure this is even a real thing?"

"Of course I'm sure!" Dwight says with no small amount of vindication. "Do you think I'd ask you to urinate on me without doing research?"

Jim tucks himself back into his pants with a frown. "Unfortunately, yes."

"It says here that it's a myth," Pam explains, eyes scanning her phone. "WebMd suggests applying topical ointment, taking a warm shower, or-"

"That's it," Jim says, fists curled in his pockets. "I'm leaving."

"Wait!" Dwight begs. "I still need your help!"

"Jim!" Pam shouts breathlessly across shore. "I'm sorry!"

Dwight's pleading voice stops Jim in his tracks. "Please," he says. "I'll do anything."

Resolve already weakening, Jim turns back, lips pressed into a thin line. "Anything?"


End file.
